IKE’S LAMENT

Camp News, Volume 3, Issue 150, 27 November 1942, Page 3

IKE’S LAMENT

I comma to camp Against a da will, I no canna march I no canna drill; Key make me parade Around and around, I have da collapsa And fall on da ground. I feela so bad I no canna walk, Da bone she no good She turna to chalk. I land on da mat Da physica wreck Da bossa he say five boba you pay But he no take da cheque. I parada so sick j At da R.A. da P. Dey no canna cure Da bone in da knee; I feela so bad I no wanta roam I no lika da Army I, wanta go home. ? I, tella you’s guys Dis camp I no like, Dey maka me mad Dey calla me Ike; I gotta da right To make da complain No calla me Ike She’s notta my name. I tella you now Yust vhata is vhich I no canna parade I gotta da stitch; I feela so bad “ ~ , Da doctor he look , - , • - ’ I no gotta da spot; He getta so mad And shaka da head, He tella me then I swinga da lead. I try for to march But da leg a da bone She soona collapsa Dey carry me home. My inside she boil I no canna think Da bossa he growl And I land in da clink; But she’s notta so bad . ’Cause I marcha no more I’ll stop in da clink Till afta da war. J.P., Ngarauwahia